To the Bone
by spheeris1
Summary: X/G :: Set during Season One :: Xena needs a certain kind of shelter and will do what she must to find it... :: Written over at LJ for a challenge.


To the Bone

Xena is cold. Not just of skin or of muscle, but to the bone, to her the core of her body.

The shadows cast down from the dark skies seem to reach into her very soul and settle there, a chill that never goes away.

In the past, she sought ways to fight it back. Battle-lust and blood-lust, warming up her veins with false heat, carrying her over an edge that she would not dare to approach while sober of mind.

The precipice is safe only when you are foolhardy, not when you are sane.

But Xena is cold, not just in the flesh, but in the mind... in her heart... And sometimes, she cannot find the way to sunlight, to fire. And when she finds a flicker of a flame, she is pulled to it like a moth.

_I'm sorry Gabrielle, so very sorry..._

Xena listens to her chatter on, for a minute or for a moon, it does not matter. Not right now.

The warrior fixes her gaze on Gabrielle's lips, the delicate curves and sure upturns, moving and spreading and opening... iI could find it there, along the lines of her mouth and against the slickness of her tongue, sucking me in and caressing me and fixing me.../i Gabrielle's eyes, alight and alive, getting caught in Xena's deadliest gaze. Not born of war, but of an ache so deep.

And the girl is silent, the green in those eyes flaring up and asking cautious questions.

Xena won't deny herself, not tonight.

_I can't help it, not tonight, Gabrielle... I don't know how to make you understand..._

The first touch of skin on skin, fingers upon a smooth cheek, and the spark is lit. Xena leans in, breathing in this girl. And this girl shudders, giving over with that single ragged breath what Xena might have just taken... once upon a time... this time... all the time.

Her sword-weary hands make a path along untouched thighs, pushing up a peasant skirt, getting closer to the heat, to what Xena seeks and craves and needs. This girl, this Gabrielle, trembles and it is not fear... it is innocent longing and Xena will use it, tonight.

Soon, the skirt pools about Gabrielle's waist and Xena is dipping down, kissing the neck and lingering over the pulse, biting the shoulder and drawing closer to the mouth. And their lips meet, the spark gets hotter.

Xena pulls in Gabrielle's tongue, drinks from it like it is ambrosia. There is moaning and Xena is not sure from whom it comes. Her fingertips make contact with cloth and Xena wastes no time, not a moment of gentleness for this barrier to flesh. She pulls and it rips. And she finds the heated body of Gabrielle there, waiting and eager. She notes the intake of air as fingertips graze the bare stomach and go higher, cupping pure white breasts and teasing the pale pink of nipples, tempting them to turn a darker shade

And Xena cannot get close enough, straddling this girl... this Gabrielle... and pushing against this girl's abdomen, lowering herself and pulling these hardened buds into her desperate mouth, grinding her sudden wetness against this girl's willing body, further down... against Gabrielle's own need and the girl pushes upward, wanting more... needing more...

Xena forgets everything. Because everything is now, right now. The tattered facade of control slips away and Gabrielle's hands tug, pulling off Xena's battle skirt and jerking it down. The first true meeting of their sex and Xena is moving faster, gripping Gabrielle's leg and lifting it, opening the girl more and thrusting harder. They slide against each other, writhing and halting, straining and burning up. Gabrielle's other leg wraps around Xena's undulating hips and Xena is undone, pulling her mouth away from this girl's chest and biting this girl's tender skin, around the ribs and down the sides, latching on and riding this girl... this Gabrielle...

_I can feel it, so close and so tantalizing... Glorious warmth, a saving grace... I can feel it, dear Gods, I can feel it all over me..._

And Gabrielle comes hard right then, her fingernails digging deep into Xena's bowed head, her youthful bucking milking out every last second of this orgasm. Xena closes her eyes, feeling her own hot breath coast along her own lips... and she is ready to fall, to be consumed. And Gabrielle urges her onward, knowing that things are left unfinished for the one who started all this... for the warrior who longs for peace and redemption... for Xena, who needs shelter from this personal storm in the body of an adoring village girl. Ceaseless is their movements and Xena raises up, roughly sliding her soaked center along Gabrielle's torso, along her breasts and finding forgiveness upon the length of this girl's tongue, the rapid lapping and slightly timid strokes and the inexperienced, yet genuine, hands keeping her there. Keeping and holding Xena there, letting her scarred form find release in a guttural groan as she comes, gripping this girl's face... Gabrielle's face...

_Yes... _

Xena settles back, minutes later and feels those eyes on her, those caring green eyes. And the warrior is not sure what is more frightening, the love so willingly given there or the coldness within her own soul. The heat is receding and, with it, the haze of desire.

_I'm sorry, Gabrielle... Gods know, I am sorry... _

And with it, Xena retreats, leaving this girl... Gabrielle... alone and wondering, confused and vulnerable. The ice settles back in, laying waste to the brief respite of something more.

END


End file.
